


Name That Feeling

by ectograsp



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), ouat
Genre: F/M, Outlaw Queen - Freeform, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, baby girl locksley - Freeform, baby name discussion, long overdue talk, outlaw peanut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5740369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectograsp/pseuds/ectograsp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina doesn't know what to call the baby, and she might be too afraid to ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Name That Feeling

Here is a secret no one knows; Regina is done with memorializing people via baby names.

Henry is Henry; his own wonderful, kind, curious, stubborn self. She doesn’t look at him and see the aborted life of her father renewed; Henry has a hundred times his strength and courage, and the sum of his fledgling teenage life is already brighter and better-lived than the sad, trudging existence his namesake eked out. The name hasn’t constrained him; he’s made it his own. The name makes her smile, now, instead of cry.

Daniel has his place in the middle of her son’s name; her long-ago prayer for goodness, and innocence, when she feared that a child she raised was destined to lose them both young. Henry’s the best person she knows, and though as a mother ever day he grows up hurts her, it’s also the greatest feeling in the world, to watch him shed the outgrown vestiges of childhood and start to become a man. It’s a kind of loss, but he’s also gaining something, and so is she. It’s a good thing to remember, when she gets stuck in a loop about how unfair life can be, and how nobody really gets what they deserve, and if only Daniel… it’s good, to remember that endings can reap new beginnings. 

Regina wouldn’t change his name. But Henry, as usual, is the exception to the rule.  
She looks at baby Neal – small, wrinkled, and generically baby-faced – and still pictures Henry’s father, who might have died well but was honestly otherwise a non-event of a human being, by all repute a far more interesting and braver adolescent than adult.

She listens to Snow talk about her mother and baby group; it turns out little Alexandra, Cinderella’s doe-eyed daughter, was actually named after a woman who gave her a discount on medicine for some mice. Aurora’s been talking about having a second baby, and would love a girl to call Rose in honour of her mother. Which is at least less narcissistic than Phillip agreeing to name his son after himself. 

Everywhere you turn in this town, there’s a kid with a timeshare name that evokes, even if just for a second, the face of someone they’re not. 

Robin’s daughter is going to be in her life forever, if all goes well. She would really like to start their relationship with a blank slate; it’s not the baby’s fault that her mother is an abominable hell bitch. 

She’s kind of afraid that Robin is going to name her Marian. 

She’d understand. It could be a way of reclaiming that name for the real, lovely woman his wife was. She couldn’t begrudge him that. She’d learn to hear that name and think of his little girl, instead of the real woman she imprisoned and the fake version her sister used to violate the man she loves. She would.

But does she have to? 

Can’t he just call her Jane?

-

The Underworld version of the library is best described as fire-and-brimstone chic. It looks like someone set Maleficent loose in here; everything’s either knocked over, broken or charred, and the whole place smells like charcoal. 

But it’s secure, with doors that lock and a good view of the main street, so as the sun sets Regina, Henry, Robin, Rumplestiltskin, Snow, Charming and Emma batten down the hatches and wait for daylight. Regina finds herself a chair, pulls it upright and drags it behind a desk, where she sits and watches the others – Rumplestiltskin perches in the corner like a greasy-haired gargoyle, observing his companions with slitted eyes. If he sleeps tonight Regina will eat her shoe; the level of animosity towards him, usually simmering at a low bubble of dislike, is ramped up to outright contempt and in Emma’s case, seething hatred. She might not kill him – she needs him – but if he emerges from this adventure unmarked by angry Saviour fists, Regina will be amazed. 

Snow and Charming whisper to each other on the floor, casting worried glances at their daughter, who is pacing the shelves and practically vibrating with anxious energy, eyes scanning books without really seeing them. Occasionally she picks one up and stops, tries to read – Regina isn’t sure if she’s actually trying to research anything – somehow ‘pirate resurrection’ seems a little too obscure for a library curated on a budget of nothing – or just trying to distract herself, but it’s not working. After the fourth book she’s picked up and discarded, she disappears into the office and shuts the door firmly behind her. The absence of Hook is suddenly painfully apparent as the moment when he’d usually go after her arises and falls with a thump; Henry catches Regina’s eye from across the room, looking distressed, and she nods at the unspoken question in his eyes. He gets up and follows Emma into the office. 

Regina hopes he can find something to say to help.

She’s still looking at the closed office door when Robin walks over, dragging a chair behind him so he can sit opposite her.

‘I checked the perimeter,’ he says. ‘All seems good at present, but maybe you should…’ he raises a hand and makes a clumsy gesture that clearly means ‘magic’ but looks more like ‘tightening a washer’; Regina smirks. 

‘Already done. If anything crosses that border, we’ll know about it.’ 

He smiles; glances in the direction of the office, and it slips a little. 

‘Is she alright?’

‘Not really,’ Regina answers. ‘Henry’s with her.’

‘Poor lad. He’s worried about her.’

Something in Regina’s chest clenches; painful, yet not unpleasant. It’s moments like this when she has hope for their family. Robin loves Henry like he’s his own; the same way she feels about Roland. She’ll feel that way about his little girl, too. 

She reaches out and takes his hand; grateful for the millionth time for the million things about him that are warm where she is cold. 

‘He should be worried about himself. I still have half a mind to send him back.’ She’s grumbling into the void, and he knows it.

‘No you don’t. I know you, Regina. You want him here, where you can look after him. That’s all any parent wants.’

His eyes drop, and guilt twinges in Regina’s stomach. 

‘I’m sorry, Robin,’ she says, voice low. She squeezes his hand, trying to impart how much she means it. ‘I want you to be with them too.’

‘Do you?’ 

She rears back a little, hurt. ‘Of course I do. They’re your children, I want you to –‘

‘No – no,’ he says hurriedly, leaning forward. ‘I know you’d never wish me parted from my kids, I know that. And I know you love Roland, I’ve seen you with him. He adores you.’ They both smile, despite the seriousness of their conversation. ‘I know you want to be back with him. But – my daughter?’ He trips over the words a bit, unaccustomed to them. ‘Do you want to be with her?’ 

‘I – ‘ she feels her throat closing up, and when Robin’s eyes fill with dread, panic rises and she says ‘I don’t know how to say what I mean without sounding selfish.’

He swallows. ‘Tell me. I won’t be angry.’

There’s a tense, silent moment while she arranges the words inside her head, struggling to pick coherent expression out from a swamp of guilt and fear and uncertainty. He holds her hand, his thumb moving in a reassuring pattern over her skin, and as he waits she feels her heartbeat slow down and relax. 

She trusts him. He’s not going to freak out.

She takes a deep breath. 

‘I don’t know what to call her.’

He is still; he takes this in. 

‘What do you mean?’ He realizes he said that loudly and glances over his shoulder; everyone else is too embroiled in their own conversations or paranoia to eavesdrop, and he turns back.

‘Because – because we haven’t named her?’

The use of the word ‘we’ lights up inside her head and the corner of her mouth tugs up against her will; she ploughs forward, a little more sure.’

‘Because I don’t know what you want me to call her. Technically she’s my niece, but neither of us really like thinking about that particular connection. And even if I wanted to call her that, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable every time I talk about your daughter.’

He catches on; he seems to relax. 

‘Regina,’ he says slowly, ‘I don’t want you to feel guilty about what Zelena did to me. Ever.’

‘She did it because of me.’

‘She did it because she’s a twisted, disturbed, deeply unhappy person who has only ever learned to dull her misery by inflicting pain on others,’ he corrects her. ‘You were her excuse.’

‘You don’t ever think about the fact that if you hadn’t met me –‘

‘If I hadn’t met you,’ he interrupts, fierce, ‘I would not know you. I would not have my daughter. I’m angry about what happened to me, to Roland, how she deceived us. But I don’t wish away you or my baby girl. Not for a second.’

He sighs.

‘We should have talked about this sooner. This is the worst place for it. But I didn’t know how to – to be happy about the baby without hurting you. I didn’t realize you’d think that meant I was unhappy about what knowing you has brought to my life.’

‘I know you love me,’ Regina says quietly – miracle of miracles. ‘I didn’t doubt that. But sometimes love isn’t enough. I’m going to love that little girl like crazy, but if –‘

‘She’s your daughter,’ says Robin. ‘If you want her to be, she’s your daughter.’

‘I want her.’

Saying it is like letting go of an anchor, and Robin’s answering smile is blinding.

That’s what it comes down to. It doesn’t matter how the baby was conceived, not when they’re talking about whether or not Regina can love her. She’s a beautiful, innocent child who might have Robin’s patience and good humour and eyes, but otherwise gets to decide entirely for herself who she’ll be. Regina can love her; she’s halfway there already. She’s just been terrified than one day Robin will look at her and see Zelena and want her to give up him, Roland and another tiny person she loves. 

She should have known better. 

-

‘I like Natasha.’ 

They lie on the hard library ground, whispering, fingers entwined, and try out baby names. Robin never suggests Marian. Regina guesses maybe they both want to keep her in the past. 

‘Eliza,’ Robin counters.

‘Too Dolittle.’

‘Rachel.’

She considers. ‘Another R.’

‘Rowena, Rory, Raven, Raffaela –‘

No.

‘Olivia.’

‘Kate.’

‘Felicity.’

‘Daisy.’

Fresh as a daisy. 

Regina smiles. 

‘I like it.’

**Author's Note:**

> I really want a whole episode of Robin and Regina discussing the baby and Zelena and their feelings, but until then I'm making it up myself. 
> 
> I'm not entirely sure how coherent this is but out into the world it goes :)


End file.
